Page 46 of This is a Kissing Book

I whisper, “She still is.”

Breath unsteady, Linc takes a sip of root beer, signaling the conversation is closed.

I say, “So you’re really a Lincoln.”

“I’ve read all of his speeches—have the Gettysburg Address and passages from others memorized.”

“Wow. So how does a guy related to Abraham Lincoln end up knowing people like Aiken and Iva?” That was not the question I should’ve asked, but since he was talking about romance and love, it slipped out.

“I dated Iva for about five months. I was her mystery man—she never confirmed publicly who she was seeing because it was better for her image to seem available. I recently ran into her at a smoothie shop for the first time in ages.” He leans back against the couch cushion. “As for Aiken, he’s her flavor of the week.”

I prefer my simple life and the Sweetheart Report to that kind of drama.

He asks, “Do they change your opinion of me?”

“Why would you care about my opinion?”

“What about the Lincoln thing?”

I consider this seriously. “You’ve given me a lot to think about tonight.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“It’s the only one I have right now.”

He finishes his root beer and then says, “Back at the party, when Iva and Aiken were talking about us being a couple⁠—”

I nearly choke again and then cover it with laughter. No need to make it any more awkward than it needs to be. “Ridiculous, right? I mean, you and me? We’re very different people. And we’re coworkers. Sort of. Not technically, but you know what I mean …” I trail off.

“Very different.” He nods but doesn’t quite meet my eyes.

My heart hiccups as I say it. “I would never—don’t worry about it. We’re on the same page.” The last thing I need is for my sort-of boss to think I took that the wrong way. In fact, I pointed out that we hate each other.

Or so I thought.

Linc unfolds himself from the couch, a hulking figure in the small room. “Thanks for coming with me tonight. And for the root beer.”

“Thanks for the adventure. Even if it was weird and kind of disturbing.”

“Illuminating?” he asks, recalling my comment earlier.

I nod. Very much so. Though not in the way that I initially thought.

19

LINC

Jules and I haven’t discussed the rooftop party in the days since, but I’ve been studying the discrepancies she brought to my attention like they’re game film before playoffs … and analyzing the comment she made at the party.

We hate each other.

We hate each other? That seems extreme. Harsh. Speaking for myself, I don’t hate her.

But does she truly despise me? I shift in my seat as if I’m fresh off the ice, stewing in sweaty athletic gear.

If she thinks I hate her, she’s mistaken. Admittedly, I came across as pretty aggressive at first. Didn’t want to be here. Still don’t. I could walk away, but it’s easier to fantasize about it when I’m on the thirty-ninth floor than actually staging a walkout, dishonoring my role, disregarding my father’s legacy.

I just have to stick it out … and do my best not to think about my cute assistant.